


She Sucks

by RunAwayToo



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: F/M, You suck is old news, but here I am writing about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 04:30:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2838011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunAwayToo/pseuds/RunAwayToo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael Clifford's girlfriend has heard about this little song called "You Suck," she figures it's about time she listens to it.<br/>-<br/>I know this song is an old thing now, but I can't stop laughing about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Sucks

A familiar tune came through the speakers of her computer, one she’d heard so many times before, if only in a slightly different tune. She’d heard it as it was written. As it was recorded, set alongside some of her favorite voices in music. She’d even heard it dispersed over a crowd of thousands before, soft and melodious, a smile of his face as he struck each note perfectly. 

This combination was his, how dare she use it for petty gains.

I hate your dumb tattoo  
I wish you'd fly to the moon

And to try and strike a chord by targeting 

Where there are no girls to use or screw over

“Cara?”

She fumbled with the keys on her computer for a quick second, sending out a response of her own which led her inquisitive boyfriend to her. 

“Hey Mikey,” she said, standing up to meet him halfway across the lounge room for a kiss. Rather than gathering around the gaming stations, as usual, the boys were in a haze from the mixed emotions of their approaching final show, throwing a loud dance party towards the front of the bus.

Cara stowed away towards the back for a moment to think, and get her eyes on this damned video. All anyone could talk about was Abigail Breslin's pathetic attempt to regain the public eye, this time through music. The results were astonishing. Laughable, actually.

Maybe it was the fact she was now currently dating the exact boy the song was named after. Maybe it was because she knew he and Abigail had never gotten past casual hangouts and tweets. Maybe it was because the song sounded just like every other whiny poem she had previously posted on her tumblr account.

Not that Cara was watching, or anything. The boys teased Michael to no end about Abigail, every moment of subtweeting was replayed on multiple occasions for the boy, so much that she could probably recite some of the greatest hits in her sleep. If he was just a song now, she was just a joke.

"We're almost at the hotel," Michael informed her as he settled down on the couch, slinging an arm around her shoulder as she pulled the closed laptop back onto her lap. "I came to check out what you were doing. Didn't seem so keen on watching my sick moves?" He took a pause to set her computer back off her lap, transporting her onto his own and showering her neck in tiny pecks. "What could possibly be more important than that?"

"If you should know, I'm doing a bit of research on your past wives, trying to see what I have to live up to." He paused for a moment, humming against her skin. "They're... unique."

"So you're finally watching the video?"

"Oh yes. Now if you wouldn't mind," she said, pulling the computer back ontop them both, "I have got to finish my research."

"Don't even let me both you."

It wasn't too much of a bother when he snorted upon the video coming back onscreen. Nothing he couldn't make up for later.

Play.

I'm laughing 'cause I lied, you know  
I said you sound like All Time Low  
You really don't even though you try hard  
You try hard

Where was the compliment in comparison?

Maybe if she stole more of their songs, so preciously composed and given to the world, she would be able to write a better one. Originality was dead it seemed. The desire to be the object of the bands affections and poetry? It seemed Abigail would never let it go.

I bet you're gonna hear this song  
I bet you're gonna sing along  
And tell your friends how I'm obsessed with you  
Ohhh  
And I bet you didn't know that you sound like a girl

"Heeeeeeeey," he drawled.

Every time you call me when you're drunk  
And all that I wanna say is  
You really suck

I hate the scar above your eye  
It looks like you're on drugs  
And you really need to learn to wash your hair  
Overall, you're not a catch  
You're just a dumbass  
“Creative,” she sniggered.

Bleaching your hair  
Well, I hope it all falls out  
And it falls out

Cara turned her head towards Michael, jokingly gasping, to which he quickly joined in on, and planting a large kiss on his scar.

"You wash your hair less than me, even, Carr."

"If my hair hasn't fallen out yet all the times I've colored it, Mikey, yours is fine."

For dramatic effect he pulled at his ends, calling the single strand that loosened up a fluke. 

I bet you're gonna hear this song  
I bet you're gonna sing along  
And tell your friends how I'm obsessed with you  
Ohhh  
And I bet you didn't know that you sound like a girl  
Every time you call me when you're drunk  
And all that I wanna say is  
You really suck

By this chorus they were both singing along, having an even better time than Abigail and her fake friends were on the small screen.

He pushed the computer off her lap once again, the music still playing as he stood them both up in a dance party for two.

Oh, and thanks for telling all your lies  
'Cause now I realize  
I'd rather date a rock  
Oh, and thanks for the tickets to your show  
I just wanted you to know  
All your band mates are hotter than you

"Nope nope nope," she said, kissing him each time.

"I mean come on," he replied. "None of them could pull someone as gorgeous as you."

I bet you're gonna hear this song and say  
"Oh my god she's so obsessed with me dude"  
But no

"BUT YES," they screamed in unison, stopping their flailing dances to turn to each other.

And I bet you didn't know that you sound like a girl  
Every time you call me when you're drunk  
I bet you're gonna hear this song  
I bet you're gonna sing along  
And tell your friends how I'm obsessed with you  
But 

“YES!”

And I bet you didn't know I talked to all the girls  
That you were with when you were with me  
And they said  
You really suck

By the end of the song the two were out of breath with laughing and dancing. Michael pulled her in for a kiss and she pushed the two of them back to the couch, settling her legs on either side of his when he pulled her into his lap. They couldn't do much of anything in the tour bus, lest it be in the late late on a night they weren't in a hotel and the show hadn't left any of them pumped with adrenaline. Michael could find it.

No, they wouldn't work themselves into anything more than this slow, passionate embrace for now. Surely another boy would be back soon to ensure that, hating to miss an opportunity to rag on their relationship any time she came on tour with them.

Out of breath and with Michael distracted from her mouth to focus instead on attacking her neck. "Fly me to the moon baby," she whispered to him.

"As long as you never leave my side."


End file.
